Ferelden Roses
by Chaos' Plague
Summary: A tale following the lives of a group of Ferelden warriors forced to rely on one another to survive the Blight that threatens to swallow everything they hold dear.


**Ferelden Roses**

**Part I: Kates**

_Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to EA but the OC's belong to us. This is our story, this is our song._

As a child the tales seem give form to that bodiless darkness we fear at night. When mother and father put out the lights our fears are intensified and those monsters from the stories lurk in the dark to tears us to shreds. We get older and we realize that the stories are just cautionary tales to keep us in line, to frighten the children, and to remind us that The Chantry is our only salvation. Without Andrastes' light and the sacred chant the monsters of our past would sweep over us. Then we enlist and offer our swords to this Bann or Arl. That is when we see war, see blood, see death and the darkness in the souls of men. _That_ is when the monsters become real, that is when we realize that those dark monsters from our childhood nightmares have to be real. The evil within man reflects the evil of his environment. The Maker tests us and what greater measuring sticks than our own demons?

Darkspawn.

Blight.

Grey Wardens.

I raised my sword high leaving my midsection undefended and watched as the two evil creatures studied me with dark intent. I'd faced bandits and rival soldiers before and their leers meant pain and carnal violation. But these monsters, these darkspawn promised something worse. As if reading my mind they cackled and charged. The first ran headlong into my trap and I gladly removed that head from his misshapen shoulders. The second came up short and made me fight for his blood but in the end he lay bleeding his horrible black sludge all over the forest floor. I looked around me and of the six scouts sent out to observe the enemy's movements only I and Griswold remained. The man fought wildly, swinging his battle axe from side to side with animal-like roars. Around him lay nearly a dozen darkspawn bodies. He turned to me and for a moment I feared he might rush me. Berserkers were unpredictable when the fervor was upon them. He stared as if it took him a while to recognize me but when the rage cleared from his expression it was replaced by fatigue. I heard a rustling of bushes even as he began to collapse.

In slow motion a darkspawn archer cleared the underbrush and notched an arrow. The filthy creature, grinning with bloody teeth, took aim at Griswold and drew back his bowstring painstakingly slow. I dropped my claymore and drew a dagger and threw it underhanded, off-hand. To my shock it spun lightning fast and cut through the air leaving colored gust in its wake. Too slow to react the Darkspawn took the blade to its throat and fell over sputtering black blood. Suddenly everything was moving at its normal pace. Griswold it the ground like a sack of stones and I ran over to finish the foul beast flailing on the ground. I yanked my blade free and plunged it back into its neck. Black foulness painted the forest floor and I hesitated to reclaim my tainted dagger. The stink of the creature was beginning to make me lightheaded and I stood abruptly, which did nothing to help. Through foggy thoughts I held on to two imperatives; the darkspawn horde was far larger than we were led to believe, and Griswold and I needed to get back to camp before nightfall.

I don't remember much besides looting the fallen and dragging Griswold into the foothills. I could see the ancient spires of Ostagar but as I half carried the big oaf on my shoulder it seemed as if I walked in place. When he began to stir I leaned his heavy weight against a tree and took the opportunity to stretch my sword arm. I was tired and feeling a bit sick since our run in with the enemy but shelter and safety were on the horizon. We just needed to get there. He groaned and slumped forward and as I grabbed him to keep him from hitting the ground he grabbed me in a rough arm lock. I went as still the grave not wanting the far stronger man to break my arm. We stood in silence, his grip neither intensifying nor easing.

"You have a death wish, stranger." Griswold growled, his breath was harsh and hot.

"Griswold, it's me. Let go of my arm." I kept my words calm though I didn't feel calm at all. I'd seen the fool snap logs bigger than me. The thought of my bones splintering made me queasy.

"Me? Who the heck is me?" I bit back a comment about how stupid the oaf sounded and realized that I might have to kill him if I wanted to keep my limbs intact. I slowly reached for my dagger with my free hand.

"Noah, Noah Kates." I said and when he didn't release me I added "Kates, from the scouts! The only girl with the team!"

"Kates, the scrawny mouse with the big sword? You look nothing like her." He replied. Then his grip _did_ intensify and I could feel my muscles straining to keep the bones where they belonged. This time it was my turn to growl.

"It's because your eyes are closed you buffoon." My fingers were wrapped around the hilt of the blade I'd used nearly an hour ago to slay a darkspawn and I knew that if I had to I could kill again. I counted to three in my head and readied myself to strike. His eyes fluttered open and stared into mine. He blinked twice and slowly let me go.

"Sorry, Mouse."

"Idiot."

He laughed and I couldn't help but laugh with him. We enjoyed a much needed easing of the tension though I never released my grip on my blade. He reached for one of the axes he usually kept on his hip and I gestured to the pack I'd been dragging behind me. He recovered his belongings and noticed the small sack of eyeballs I'd hastily gathered for him. He looked over and his big stupid grin was one of the most sincere things I'd ever seen.

"I could kiss you."

"Please. Don't." I said as I massaged by sore arm.


End file.
